


Tea and Coffee: Opposites Attract

by AVirtoMusae



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Attempt at Humor, Business, Coffee, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kirk is an asshole, M/M, Tea, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVirtoMusae/pseuds/AVirtoMusae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Jim continued giving Bones his most innocent-looking pout. Then, as somehow Bones upped the intensity of his glare, Jim blurted, 'Uhura has a crush on the owner.'</i>
</p><p> <i>Bones literally face-palmed. Jim was mildly surprised that Bones had not shaken his head again in addition. 'So what? You going to flirt with him until she decides she’d rather have you?'</i></p><p><i>'Ummm, no. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to get </i>him<i> to like </i>me<i>,' Jim said this quickly, his cheeks going a tinge pink. He grimaced, probably realizing how ridiculous he sounded. "</i></p><p> Or, Jim is an asshole, Uhura has a crush on Spock, Spock owns a tea shop, and Jim decides to annoy Uhura by annoying Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea and Coffee: Opposites Attract

  
  
  


“Bones, come with me to that new tea place downtown.” Jim was pouting at his best friend because why the hell not. Bones was his best friend, and if he were going to the new tea place, he was going to require backup because he was an overgrown child.

“Jim.” That was Bones’s unimpressed voice. Jim had a lot of experience with that tone. 

Jim smiled at Bones in a hopefully winning way. It was basically the same thing as his innocent smile, that one that almost always meant trouble and danger — to of Bones’s least favorite things in existence. “Yes?”

“No. One, it’s been there for a year. Two, I don’t like tea. Hell, _you_ don’t even like tea.You’re a coffee boy.” Jim got the distinct impression that Bones was laughing at him and his ridiculousness, which was not fair at all as Bones was just as ridiculous — he liked to stab people with vaccines and draw blood! 

“Uh, so?” Jim tilted his head to the side, eyes still wide and pouty. He crossed his arms — the very picture of a petulant child (if one could ignore his age). 

“You don’t drink tea.” Bones gave him his signature ‘Jim, you’re a fucking idiot look’ and shook his head at his friend.”

Jim grinned cheerfully. “Nope.” That particular grin was something Bones tended to run away from in terror. There was a good reason for that, too. It was usually employed when Jim got a particularly crazy idea in his head and Bones remembered that Jim was so damn stubborn.

“Then _are you out of your corn-fed mind, Jim? What the hell?_ ” Bones demanded, still staring at Jim incredulously. He made an exasperated gesture with his arms, dramatic the way his gestures always were.

Jim continued giving Bones his most innocent-looking pout. Then, as somehow Bones upped the intensity of his glare, Jim blurted, “Uhura has a crush on the owner.”

Bones literally face-palmed. Jim was mildly surprised that Bones had not shaken his head again in addition.“So what? You going to flirt with him until she decides she’d rather have you?”

“Ummm, no. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to get _him_ to like _me_ ,” Jim said this quickly, his cheeks going a tinge pink. He grimaced, probably realizing how ridiculous he sounded. 

Bones groaned, “How the hell are we still friends?” Jim was lucky to have a friend that actually put up with his ridiculous antics. It was a bit of a miracle that Jim had someone like that, considering all the ridiculous shit he got up to. Seriously, anyone would run when Jim smiled like that, but Bones would only wish he would run. He was a good friend like that. 

“‘Cause you _wuv_ me.” Jim batted his eyelashes at Bones. 

Bones made a face. “Excuse me while I go vomit. Even if I swung that way, kid, you’d have a snowball’s chance in hell.” Bones stood up, still gracing Jim with an irritated look.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Jim grinned, and folding his arms behind his head, he leaned back in his chair. 

“I will,” Bones grumbled back, getting up. Jim was relatively sure that Bones had a class right about now. Maybe that was why he was fleeing so suddenly. Obviously he was not fleeing because Jim was being about as mature as a toddler. If that were enough to make Bones flee, Bones would have high-tailed it out of there years ago. He must have been drunk when he decided that Jim Kirk was best friend material. Knowing Bones, he probably had been.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

Jim’s next few attempts at convincing Bones to come with him to the tea shop were the very definition of epic failure. Seriously, they had to be somewhere in a textbook or dictionary or the 23rd century losers’ almanac. Then again, offering to set Bones up with Gaila, who was basically a female version of Jim, might not have been the best bribe. Jim would have had better luck had he offered to mix whatever drink Bones got with that 134 proof Romulan Ale he had. As it were, Jim had been hearing a lot of “Goddamnit, kid! You’re still on that?”- and “You sure you don’t need to retake your damn psych eval”-esque statements attached to the phrase “hell no.”

Thus, Jim had come down to the tea shop on his own. Jim rarely went places on his own (he was like a teen-aged girl in this respect), but this meant enough that he was willing to come without any companion. In retrospect, this might be why he decided to ruffle the metaphorical feathers of the very strange and very literal owner of the establishment that Uhura had an illogical crush on before he had actually bothered to try some of the tea that the place sold. 

“You guys should sell some coffee too.” Jim leaned forward against the counter. He most certainly did not utilize what Bones referred to as his “puppy dog eyes” to try to convince the owner to bend to his will. Of course, the owner was Vulcan, and this had a very slim chance of working. Jim let half a smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

The eyebrow raise that ensued said everything that was necessary. Jim doubted the owner of the tea shop had any idea he was even doing it because he continued on to inform Jim,“This is a tea shop — a fact that is clearly stated in clear Comic Sans lettering on the sign out front and above each menu. I would recommend you see an optometrist in a professional capacity. Selling coffee in a tea shop would be illogical.” 

Jim laughed, and if anything, the other man’s eyebrow flew up even further. Jim would have to ask Bones if there were some gene that allowed an eyebrow to literally disappear into someone’s hairline because if there were, this man clearly had it. “Another thing: no one likes Comic Sans font. Change it.”

“It is scientifically proven to be easier to read for everyone and aids people with dyslexia. Changing it would, again, be illogical.” Jim was not sure how the owner, who was named “Spock Grayson” according to his name tag, could manage to sound so prissy while being so incredibly disagreeable.

“You’re illogical,” Jim grumbled. Jim scratched the back of his neck as he realized exactly how stupid his insult sounded because it was literally just what Spock had told him. Spock’s raised eyebrow agreed with Jim — it was an unimpressive insult. In order to save what little face he had left, he decided to continue speaking. “But seriously, sell coffee and change the font to something more . . . homey.”

“I do not see how violating the premise of my entire business and ranking aesthetics above functionality will aid my business.” The eyebrows showed no sign of returning to their regular, resting position. Jim found it more than a little alarming.

“Trust me, it will.” Jim wiggled his eyebrows at Spock and winked cheesily. In retrospect, that may have hurt his case more than helped it. Oh well.

“Trusting you when you have proved to be so illogical would be . . . illogical.” Spock pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. Jim got the impression that that was Spock’s version of an irritating smirk.

“It will help, Spock.” Jim crossed his arms as if that might actually help. As if it would. 

Jim got silence from Spock. Goddamnit. 

“Look, we can either work together, or I’m going to open up a coffee shop across the street and steal all your customers. Your choice.” Jim attempted, again, to copy that eyebrow move. Spock’s eyebrow continued its gig up in the Vulcan’s hairline.

“No.” The response was literally instantaneous. Jim was not thrilled. 

Sulkier than he’d have liked, Jim groaned, “Your funeral.”

“Unless you intend to murder me, at which point I shall have to inform the police, there will be no funerals.”

Jim felt like face-palming. “Oh, we’ll see about that.” He smirked at Spock.

“Then this _funeral_ you suggest will be your own.” Spock’s voice was level, but Jim grinned. Spock was actually responding to his challenge rather nicely. Jim felt smug. Jim liked that feeling. 

“I’m sure it will be, baby.” Jim reached over the counter and patted Spock on the shoulder. As he retreated, Spock furrowed his brow and his eyes followed Jim’s hand. Definitely surprised even if there was a little of a green blush on his face.

Spock continued staring for a minute before he discovered that words did, surprisingly, still exist and that he was capable of using them. “I object to that illogical moniker. I am not an infant.”

Jim smirked and resisted the urge to clap Spock on the shoulder again. “Of course you aren’t, baby.”

Knowing that he had the upper hand, Jim decided that it was high time he left. He had not even gotten a tea, but oh-fucking-well. He wasn’t sure he wanted to test what the Vulcan would do to his tea if he made it for Jim now. Well, it was a good thing Jim disliked tea. Or the Vulcan. Clearly he did not like the Vulcan.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

“Uhura’s crush has a major stick up his ass.” Jim collapsed in his chair across from Bones. Bones snorted, unappreciative, because Bones was like that sometimes. It had only been a few hours since Jim had talked to Spock anyway.

“Gee, Jim, tell me what you really think,” Bones grumbled. Yep, there was definitely an eyeroll there, too. Bones was not often impressed by Jim’s antics, and apparently, this was one of those times that was not actually an exception to that rule.

“He does though.” Jim folded his arms across his chest and stared petulantly at his friend.

Bones rolled his eyes at Jim. “And you give a shit because of what exactly? Sorry, I must have missed the part where you were looking out for Uhura’s best interests.”

Jim shifted in his seat and looked down at the table. He realized his palms had gotten slightly sweaty.

Bones huffed, frowning at his friend. “Please tell me you don’t have a crush too.” Bones did not know what he would do if his friend did have a crush. He did not have time for angsty teenaged girls. He was glad his own daughter was still a pre-teen. He didn’t know what he’d do if she got a crush on some boy.

The silence confirmed Bones’s suspicion despite the vehement denial that followed the pause. “Hell no.” He punctuated each of these words an almost Bones-like dramatic gesture. “Did you not hear me when I said stick-up-ass?”

“Just making sure you didn’t want it to be your stick.” Bones looked at him intently, and Jim just looked down at the table. 

Jim glowered at Bones. “As I said: hell to the no.” It was petulant and perhaps a bit of a denial, but hey, it was Jim. That expression was him exactly.

Bones smirked. “You said ‘hell no’.” Bones also sounded an alarming amount like Jim imagined Spock would. That didn’t help. Obviously.

Jim groaned and put his head in his hands for a second. When he looked up, he was bright red. He quickly put his head back in his hands after quickly flipping Bones the bird.

Bones chuckled, patting Jim on the top of the head as if Jim were a little kid (maybe not so much “as if” as “because”). “So if you don’t want to fuck him, why do you still care?” So yeah, Bones was smirking.

Jim pouted, sticking out his lower lip as he finally removed his hands from his face. His ears and cheeks were a bit pink. “He didn’t like my suggestions — which were actually good ones by the way.”

“Of course they were,” Bones teased. He grinned, lightly punching Jim’s shoulder in a friendly way. “But again, obsessing much?”

“I might have told him he could work either with me or against me,” Jim protested. He looked down at the food on his plate and picked at it.

Bones snorted. “Definitely not a crush.” 

Jim was glaring again.“It’s not.” He picked up his knife and fake-aimed it at Bones. It was Bones’s turn to glare. Bones didn’t seem to care for having a knife jokingly aimed at him. Jim couldn’t understand.

“You said you wanted him to fall for you,” Bones reminded him. He rolled his eyes.

“As an unrequited thing,” Jim defended, his tone saying that this should have been obvious, “I don’t do crushes.”

“God forbid you do relationships or anything more mature than one-night stands and fuck buddies.” Bones’s sarcastic tone told Jim exactly what his best friend thought of his habit of one-night stands. Bones was shocked Jim had never ended up with an STI, and he chalked that up to luck and luck only. Heavens forbid Jim actually have any measure of common sense. 

“Basically.” Jim shrugged, smirking.

“It’s a miracle you haven’t gotten anything permanent,” Bones grumbled, reiterating what both men knew already

“Luck’s on my side,” Jim joked, also repeating his answer from every conversation ever. And seriously, there was really nothing else that could actually explain the continued existence of James Tiberius Kirk. Self-preservation and Jim’s genius really didn’t explain anything because one Jim didn’t have and the other he oft ignored.

“So you think,” Bones muttered darkly before continuing,“So this guy: you’re obsessing.”

“Am not.” Jim stuck his tongue out at Bones. “I might have told him I’m opening a coffee shop across from his pretty little tea party.”

“Wait, what?” Bones demanded, gaping at Jim. He’d been shocked and horrified by Jim numerous times, but flabbergasted? This had to be a first.

“So I’m now opening a coffee shop,” Jim repeated more slowly. He was completely serious, to Bones’s horror.

“Damn it, Jim! You seriously want to open up a coffee shop to _what_? Prove you’re right?” Bones was definitely incredulous as he had every fricking right to be because seriously? The latest of Jim’s schemes might have been be by far the most ill thought-out. 

“I didn’t phrase it like that,” Jim protested, throwing his arms up dramatically in a way that might have been mocking Bones. Might have been. 

“You don’t need to,” Bones said darkly. His eyes were daggers aimed at his best friend.

“But Bones . . .” Jim whined, giving his friend his best puppy-dog eyes.

Bones was entirely unaffected by Jim’s pouty look. Bones was capable of seeing through Jim’s bullshit, unlike literally most of the population of the entire galaxy.“Yes, Jim?”

“He could totally be doing more business and he’s not,” Jim tried to justify.

Bones continued to give Jim an unimpressed stare. “Didn’t take you for a bleeding heart.”

“I’m not.” Jim fidgeted in his seat and could not quite 

Wordlessly Bones continued to give Jim an unimpressed stare.

“I’m not,” Jim blustered, trying to sound offended and failing spectacularly.

“Right.” The god of sarcasm collected enough sarcasm from that one word to spread sarcasm all across the universe for all of eternity. The same could be said for almost everything Bones said. The god of sarcasm had long since given up on spreading sarcasm and had taken to 

“He just keeps thinking inside the box and it’s holding him back,” Jim continued. Bones was unsure if Jim were still trying to convince him or if he’d decided he liked waxing poetic about the owner of this not-a-coffee shop.

“Didn’t take you for a business expert,” Bones said when there seemed to be an appropriate pause in which he could insert a comma. He’d given up giving Jim his full attention. 

“I’m not,” Jim agreed, nodding sagely, “but I get people. And people like coffee levels of caffeine and pretty.” Jim grinned broadly as if to say “that’s why they like me.”

“You’d have experience with both.” Bones apparently felt the need to speak what had already been implied. 

Jim nodded. “Exactly, Bones.” 

“So you’re going to steal the guy’s customers in order to help him with his business.” Bones’s voice oozed unimpressed as he pointed out the most logical flaw in Jim’s idea. 

“. . . Yes?” Jim answered, but the answer was more a question. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re incorrigible, an incorrigible little boy,” Bones admonished, “pulling his crush’s pigtails on the playground.”

Jim gaped and could not find words for a full minute.“What?!”

“Exactly,” Bones agreed emphatically, “Now I’m going to class where I might actually find some responsible adults who don’t want to set themselves up for failure.” Bones stood up and tossed his garbage and put the tray on the pile. 

“Ouch, that hurts.” Jim put a hand over his heart and effected a shocked look on his face.

“It was meant to,” Bones said darkly. 

Jim looked at Bones and teased, “You’re a terrible doctor.”

“Thank you,” Bones grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Now bye, Jim.” With that, Bones exited the room and Jim was left on his own.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

When Kirk had left the tea shop, Spock had figured that he was never going to see the man. Had he been human, then maybe he would have been thinking something like _good riddance_. As a Vulcan, he was (mostly) above that sort of thing. But then, Kirk had, in fact, leased the empty building across the street from Spock’s shop.

Spock would have denied his disbelief, but it still existed whether or not he acknowledged its existence. Spock had to raise an eyebrow when he realized that Kirk was seriously going through with his threat. Spock could not explain what caused him to want to go across the street, but he did exactly that. There was no logical explanation for it.

“You appear to be following through on your threat.” Spock would admit the statement was an illogical one to make as he was actually standing in Kirk’s shop, which had only been created as a direct function of aforementioned threat.

Kirk pouted and leaned back as he crossed his arms. He glanced around his cafe as if to ask what Spock’s opinion of it was. “That’s a harsh phrasing.”

Spock opted to ignore the implied query.“But accurate.”

“Sure,” Kirk drawled, smirk playing at his lips (Spock ignored the fact he sort of wanted to stare at said lips for an inappropriate length of time), “you think that.”

Spock’s nostrils narrowed as he pursed his lips. “As I am already thinking it, I hardly need your permission.” An angular black eyebrow quirked up. It screamed _unimpressed_ to all who saw.

“Whatever,” Kirk grumbled. He was not pouting at all.

“Indeed.” Spock knew he had the upper hand here, but he was not gloating whatsoever. That would be an emotional response, which, incidentally, he did not have. 

“So yeah, starting up my coffee business. You know.” Spock nearly smirked at the ineloquence of Kirk's words. It meant Spock was winning. Spock liked that.

“Restating what has already been said is illogical.”

“Restating — ?” Kirk protested, flustered. He sighed and ran a hand through his already mussed-up hair. “Yeah, right, of course. So, feeling threatened?” His grin was his defense. His words, while silly, were his offense. 

“Vulcans do not feel threatened,” Spock defended more out-of-hand than actually believing of the words.

“Being threatened is a survival instinct,” Kirk pointed out, and Spock instinctively knew the smile was real this time. Had Spock been thinking about it, he might have noticed that he much preferred the real smile. “Logically, you should feel it.”

Spock protested weakly, “Vulcans do not . . .” 

“Feel a need to survive?” Kirk suggested with a chuckle.

“It is logical to desire a long and prosperous life.” This response was immediate. Spock both believed it and knew it by heart. 

“So you feel threatened,” Kirk exclaimed triumphantly. He slammed his fists down on the counter in his excitement.

Spock thought for a second. “No.”

“Of course you don’t,” Kirk snorted.

“You are attempting verbal irony.” Spock pressed his lips together and steepled his fingers. He did not appreciate the attitude. Well, he would say he did not.

“More commonly called sarcasm,” Kirk drawled, stretching in such a way that emphasized his musculature, “And I’m not just trying.”

“Indeed.” This word was once again accompanied by an ocean of not-impressed-at-all. 

“Hey! You do not get to sarcasm me back!” Kirk protested, pouting fantastically. He made full use of his baby blues. Spock, of course, being a Vulcan, was not affected in the slightest. Mostly. Except he found himself rather liking that particular blue. 

Spock was not distracted enough to let go all his standards, “Please desist from the misuse of vocabulary.”

Kirk grinned lazily. “Oh, it’s just part of the lingo.”

Spock felt both his eyebrows fly up as far as was Vulcanly possible. “It is inappropriate in a professional environment.”

“Good thing this isn’t professional.” Spock was finding himself far too interested in his rival's face for his own liking. He logically should not have cared about how full Kirk's lips were or the stunning blue of his eyes. Spock blinked slowly and forced himself to stare at the wall above Kirk's head.

“I have business to which I must attend.” Spock was proud of how even his tone came out. It did not waver even once.

“Wait, what?”

Spock ignored the feeling of eyes on his rear end as he strode away back across the street. He was fully aware that his leaving was abrupt and quickly determined that for the sake of his sanity that the reason Kirk was staring after him was surprise and only surprise.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

Nyota had been shocked when she'd heard Kirk was opening a coffee shop right across the way from Spock's tea shop. No, “shocked” didn't quite cover all of her feelings on the matter. Indeed, when she stormed over to Kirk’s shop where the man in question was sitting in a chair behind the cash register.

“What the hell, Kirk?!” She crossed her arms and her nostrils flared. No, she was not happy about this at all.

“Hello, Uhura,” Kirk replied while rolling his eyes, “Nice to see you, too. Not getting the first name this time?”

“Fuck you.” Nyota narrowed her eyes at him.

Kirk beamed. “Gladly.”

“You’re a pig.” Nyota was certainly not growling, but yes, her glare would have stricken fear into the heart of a lesser man.

“Last time, I was fucking pigs and other farm animals!” Kirk exclaimed, mockingly gesturing toward himself. “Now I am one.”

“You’re disgusting.” Nyota wrinkled her nose and looked like she might want to shove Kirk down a flight of stairs.

“And proud.” Kirk was still grinning.

“Yeah, how is your ego fitting in this shithole exactly?” Nyota raised her eyebrows in her best approximation of Spock.

“My lady!” Kirk mock-gasped, “I’m wounded!”

“Good.” Nyota smirked.

“So what are you doing here exactly?” Kirk was finally getting down to business, it seemed.

“You know perfectly well what!” Nyota hissed through gritted teeth. “How dare you steal his business?!”

“Technically, he brought it on himself,” Kirk, shaking his head, pointed out. He sighed wearily. 

“Uh, no. You’re just an asshole,” Nyota snapped back quickly.

“And you and your never-going-to-be-your-boyfriend both have chainsaws up your asses,” Kirk retorted. He rolled his eyes and shook his head at her. “I’ll stick with being an asshole.”

“But how dare you?!” Nyota was just about ready to slap Kirk. He would’ve deserved it.

Kirk shrugged. “Easily.”

“So you are making Spock’s life miserable for your own amusement,” Nyota concluded. She pursed her lips and tsked at him. 

“Um, that’s the tea-boy’s name?” Kirk asked. Nyota thought she caught a bit of a smirk there. She narrowed her eyes at him and wondered if he did know the name and was just pretending not to just to mess with her. It wouldn’t be unusual behavior for him. She frowned, the corners of her lipstick-covered lips dipping down.

“I hate you,” she seethed, nostrils flaring. Then, in the most condescending tone she could manage, she added, “Yes, his name is Spock Grayson. And he is ten times better than you’ll ever be.”

“Of course,” Kirk agreed with more enthusiasm than anyone should have after being insulted, “but he has terrible business sense.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. It was a miracle, Nyota thought, that he didn’t put his feet up on the counter. “Tell me, you as much a vanilla as he is?”

Nyota stiffened and couldn’t meet his eyes.“How would you know that?”

“Logic. Seriously, it’s obvious.” Kirk was cackling, too pleased with himself.

Nyota wanted to shut him the hell up, so she slapped him upside the head. He pouted, but she was on a warpath.“Fuck you.”

“Again, if you’re offering.” Kirk was still laughing, and he was still very lucky he’d yet to have her punch him in the face. 

Nyota’s eye twitched. “I hate you.”

Kirk still didn’t stop grinning. “Love you too.”

Her arms crossed across her chest and her eyebrows raised, Nyota demanded,“So hurting Spock?”

“Who said anything about hurt?” Kirk protested with mock-innocence, “As I said, his fault. He turned my offer to help improve his business.”

“I’m going to go before I vomit from disgust at your existence.” Nyota turned and stalked to the door of the shop. She had it pushed halfway open and one foot outside on the concrete when Kirk called after here.

“Nice!” Again, mocking, and again, Nyota didn’t care for Kirk’s not-taking-her-seriously.

“I know. Not go die in a fire.” And then Nyota left the coffee shop and felt all the better for it. She revelled in the sunshine and decided that maybe she ought to make the sprinklers on the coffee shop’s ceiling start going just to make the whole place match Kirk’s attitude — a.k.a., make it utterly offensive. After about ten minutes’ thought, she decided the ensuing lawsuit would not actually be worth it.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

“Nyota tells me you are being what she terms to be ‘an asshole’.” Spock raised one of his prim eyebrows. Spock was still unsure why he had opted to visit his opponent's shop. He had no actual reason to except what he was doing now — complaining about Kirk to Kirk. It was not that Spock was being particularly combative (in his own opinion) but that there was something about Kirk that irked him. He needed to convey the full extent of his ire.

Kirk looked him up and down and nodded slightly. Spock was suddenly fighting the urge to blush. “Seriously.”

Spock managed to keep his eyebrow looking skeptical and managed to keep the blush restricted to his ears only. “Vulcans are always serious.”

“Don’t pull that on me.” Kirk rolled his eyes. He was sitting behind his counter as he usually did. He drummed his fingers on the counter. Spock watched his fingers in consternation. 

“I am not pulling anything on top of you. Your request is void.” Spock effected an innocent expression on his visage as best he could manage.

“It means that you’re l —” Kirk narrowed his eyes at Spock, who was Vulcan-smirking, “Wait, you’re messing with me.”

“Vulcans do not ‘mess’,” Spock retorted primly. He was, of course, messing with Kirk.

Kirk looked singularly unconvinced be Spock's supposed innocence. “Right.”

“So you are being an ‘asshole’ by starting this business.” Spock was more-or-less quoting Nyota on that. He had told her about his interactions with Kirk over email the previous day to ask for her advice. She had said to confront Kirk directly. 

“Probably. I’d ask if you wanted to go get a coffee, but you’re here and haven’t ordered one, so . . . Sorry, that was rude.” Kirk looked almost sheepish at this, but Spock decided that that would be out of character for Kirk and dismissed it thusly.

Spock quirked a brow. “No offense was registered.”

“But do you want to go and talk?” Kirk smiled hopefully. Spock wondered if maybe the earlier sheepishness had not been entirely our of character.

“Not particularly,” Spock answered flatly.

“Oh.” Kirk deflated. He recovered quickly and asked, “You want to have a contest over who has the best pastries?”

Spock was tempted to smirk. “I thought we already did.”

“Of course, Spock.” Kirk smiled as if he were indulging a little child. Spock found this slightly insulting. After an awkward pause, Kirk inquired, “Bookstore?”

“I am not in need of any new books at present. My books on fonts of the early 21st century should suffice.” Spock could not resist the jab.

“That a not-at-all-subtle way of saying that if I were smart enough to read them I’d know all about the superiority of your lame-ass font?” Kirk asked, fully aware of what Spock was doing.

Spock did not even defend himself against such an obviously true accusation. “Precisely.”

“Awesome.” Kirk guffawed, and suddenly Spock felt a little nervous. ‘Then can I recommend a book on psychology?”

“Negative.” Spock reasoned that he probably ought to have seen that one coming. Unfortunately, he had not. 

Kirk shrugged. “You should read one.”

Spock arched an eyebrow higher. “Negative.”

Kirk snorted. After a moment, he asked quietly, “So, can I interest you in a game of chess?”

“If I believed you were capable of such an academic pursuit, the answer would be ‘affirmative’.” Spock could not resist such a perfect opportunity for another jibe.

“Awesome!” Kirk exclaimed as if Spock had actually agreed, “I’ll go get my chessboard.”

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

“Check mate.” Kirk smirked as he moved his bishop into position.

Spock stared at the board and struggled not to gape. “How — how?”

“I don’t know. Might’ve found it interesting if I thought you were able to play it.” Kirk smirked at Spock, who looked back down at the board. Kirk had certainly played better than Spock had expected.

“I must confess to having underestimated you. I must apologize.” Spock was surprised that he had actually said that aloud, but there it was.

“Isn’t that illogical?” Kirk laughed.

Spock sniffed snootily. “I was attempting to adapt to your social mores.”

“Yeah, okay. Then learn this one: never apologize unless you mean it.” Kirk shook his head and was clearly attempting not to laugh and half-failing. 

Spock was entirely unapologetic. “I see.”

Kirk lost the battle and was definitely laughing. “What, no taking it back?”

“You informed me not to apologize unless I meant it.” Spock pursed his lips. There was no doubt about it — he was teasing Kirk. Spock was confused about why he was now teasing Kirk and how his ire had seemingly evaporated. He ignored the voice in his head that told him he was flirting because Vulcans did not flirt.

Kirk chuckled for a moment before just kind of staring at Spock. “Wait, what?”

“Two minutes, five second, and eight milliseconds previously you had told me, quote: ‘never apologize unless you mean it’.” Spock tilted his head to the side and actively had to prevent a smirk from forming on his lips.

“So you aren’t sorry for apologizing? Aww, does that mean you think I’m smart? I’m flattered.” Kirk smiled mockingly for a second and leaned closer to Spock.

Spock could not help it. He blushed. “. . .Affirmative.”

“Gasp.” Kirk put a hand to his chest. “I could practically swoon!”

“That would be unappreciated.” Spock half-frowned at this.

Kirk laughed and reached over to pat Spock on the shoulder. Spock looked at the hand skeptically. “What, you’ve never made anyone go weak in the knees?”

Spock inhaled. “Not of which I am aware.”

Kirk laughed and winked at Spock. Spock purposefully ignored the meaning of the gesture. “Shame that. You’d be good at it.”

“I see no reason to compromise the integrity of a person’s knee joints.” Spock shook his head slightly and definitely did not frown. 

“It’s a — really, you’re trying that again?” Kirk was unimpressed at Spock's deliberate misinterpretation of Kirk's joke. 

“Clearly. You have a talent for stating the obvious.” Spock stared evenly at Kirk. Kirk shrugged as if he had not been a little slow to understand the joke.

Then, however, Kirk protested Spock’s statement, “Hey!”

Spock explained, “Vulcans do not lie.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “Clearly.”

“You are attempting sarcasm,” Spock noted. He sounded almost scientific about it.

Kirk shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes.”

“I must insist that you desist. Sarcasm does not suit you.” 

Kirk pouted at Spock, and Spock did not think Kirk was pretty like that. Not at all.“Definitely flattery. What does suit me then?”

“Silence,” Spock deadpanned.

“Not fair!” Kirk pouted even more as he whined. Spock ignored any urges to kiss said look off Kirk's face.

“I have duties to which I must attend. Good day.” Spock decided an abrupt exit was his best bet for maintaining his dignity. Spock turned on his heel and strode out of Kirk's shop without another word and left Kirk staring after him.

“What?”

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

“Oh my God, Bones.” Jim sat down at his seat at their table at their favorite restaurant. Jim wasn't pouting like he had earlier that morning with Spock. No, he was just going to bitch about his conversation with Spock to his best friend.

“Oh my God, Jim, what?” Bones was apparently being his usual, grumpy self and mocking Jim. Of course.

“Spock is snarkier than you are; I’m going to die from SNARK.” Jim had never sounded more whiny in his entire life but he didn't exactly give a rat's ass about that. 

Bones’s expression was distinctly unimpressed. “That’s it?”

“That’s it?! That’s everything! He’s so annoying and like seriously those eyebrows and —” Jim figured he could go on for hours about how horrible Spock was. The guy was awful.

“Dammit, Jim! You didn’t go and form a crush —”

“Uh, hell to the no. I don’t do crushes.” Jim blinked and tried to hide his horror at the thought. Mostly because he realized exactly how well “crush” fit what he was feeling. Jim paled and looked down at his hands

“Right. And I don’t like giving you hyposprays.” Bones did a rather remarkable eyebrow-raise for a non-Vulcan.

“I knew you had a hypospray fetish! Haha! I was right!” Jim was going to redirect the topic because he did not want to think about the fact he had most likely gone and developed a crush on Uhura's Vulcan.

“Fuck you. It’s not a fetish.” Bones took a bite of food as if to stave off Jim's reply. 

Of course, Jim replied instantaneously anyway, “I believe you. Not at all.”

“So, your not-crush on Spock.” Bones had caught that Jim had changed the topic then. 

Jim raised an eyebrow as best he could. It wasn't particularly intimidating. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grimaced and shoveled some food into his mouth.

“You think he likes you back?” Bones asked.

Jim laughed in defense. “You sound like such a teenaged girl.”

“Jim. Question. Now.” Bones was growling, so Jim realized it was probably better if he just answered.

“Um, he’s Spock. How the fuck should I know? Probably just trying to charm me into not continuing my lovely new coffee shop.” Jim smiled tihtly.

“I’m sure, kid, so sure. Now shut up and eat your dinner.” Bones reached across the table and patted Jim's shoulder. Jim just sighed and looked down at the coffee next to his food.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

“Why do you insist on stealing my customers, Kirk?” Spock had once again crossed the street to Kirk's coffee shop. This time, Nyota had not had to convince him to confront Kirk. Spock was more than willing to do it of his own accord now.

“You didn’t want my help. I’m just proving a point.” Kirk shrugged as if it were really that simple. That was a very simple reason for animosity and also rather illogical. 

“I insist you cease.” Spock's lips thinned. 

Kirk shrugged. “Why?”

“I . . .” Spock had no good reason for them to stop working against each other. An odd notion as Spock usually had a logical reason for everything.

“Yeah, real convincing, sweetheart.” Jim laughed and once again patted Spock on the shoulder. 

“Do not call me by such an illogical moniker.” Spock blinked slowly and raised both eyebrows up into his hairline.

Kirk thought for a second. “Sure thing, _sweetheart_ ,”

“Cease,” Spock demanded.

“Again. Why should I listen to you?” Kirk asked.

“I . . .” Spock still had no actual answer.

“You need a better answer than that.” Kirk smiled condescendingly at Spock. Spock did not like that he thought it actually looked good on Kirk. Kirk had no right to look that way.

“I dislike your stealing of my customers. I dislike your having a business across from mine. I dislike your teasing me. I dislike this competition.” Spock raised an eyebrow as he listed.

Kirk blinked, mouth open in shock. “. . . You saying you’d like to belatedly take up my offer of a partnership?” 

“I believe that is what I just said.” Spock felt like smirking, but he restrained himself.

Kirk's confusion morphed into a grin. “Very well. Accepted.”

“Good.” Spock nodded.

Kirk pouted.“Do I get to kiss you now?”

Spock had not been expecting the question, but he considered it anyway. “That would be permissible.”

“Awesome.” And then Kirk grabbed the front of Spock's shirt and kissed him. Spock's eyes went wide for a second, but then he started to kiss Kirk back. A few minutes later, Kirk pulled back for air. “You are good at this.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. He would have denied that his lips were swollen and/or that he was blushing. “I endeavor to be sufficient at everything I do.”

“That, Mr. Spock, was more than sufficient.” Kirk grinned and pulled Spock into a one-armed hug.

Spock half-smiled. “Affirmative.”

“Chess?”

Spock nodded, still letting his happiness show. “That would be acceptable.”

“I’ll go get my chess set, then.” Kirk grinned and made to leave.

“That shall not be necessary. I have one here.” Spock pulled a travel chess set out of his pocket. Kirk laughed and sat back down across from Spock.

☕ ♚ ☕ ♚ ☕ ♚

“Spock tells me you’re working together now.” Uhura crossed her arms and glared at Jim as if to say _what the heck?!_ She had come to his favorite restaurant that he usually visited with Bones. Bones hadn't arrived yet.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Jim grinned at her.

Uhura stared at Jim. “You better not be doing this to piss me off, Kirk.” Uhura was pretty sure it had started that way, but she was also pretty sure it wasn't just that anymore either. 

Jim rolled his eyes. “I thought we got past this decades ago.”

“As if. But seriously, this better be you wanting to be with him and not pissing me off or you’ll have hell to pay.” Uhura clapped him on the shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim floundered for a second.“Wait, this a shovel talk?”

Uhura chuckled. “Duh. Dumb hick much?”

“Hey!” Jim pouted.

“It’s true. But if you have to be the one to get Spock, I just need to make sure you actually care for him.” Uhura tilted her head to the side and assessed Jim. He resisted the urge to shrink back.

Jim smiled. “So you actually think I'm capable of that now?”

“Not really, but for your sake, I hope so.” Uhura smiled dangerously.

Jim continued, “So basically if I wanna keep my dick, make this work.”

“Yep.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Nyota stood up and left. A moment later, Bones sat down.

“So what was that about?” Bones asked, pointing to Uhura’s retreating figure. 

“The shovel talk,” Jim explained, a dark expression on his face.

“So you’re in a relationship with the bloody hobgoblin now?” Bones exclaimed, a bit incredulous.

“How the hell did you get hobgoblin out of that?” Jim was rather confused by Bones’s name for Spock.

Bones gave Jim a look. “Because he’s too damn literal.”

Jim scrunched up his face in thought. “Yeah, not seeing it.”

“You kept complaining about the stick up his ass,” Bones pointed out.

Jim shrugged. “Yeah, well. He’s listening to me now.”

“Because it’s your stick,” Bones realized and shook his head at his friend.

“Umm . . .” Jim grimaced, suddenly a bit sheepish.

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Nope.” Jim grinned.

Bones facepalmed.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the dialogue and therefore the plot while I was trying to get eight weeks' worth of Russian schoolwork done in literally three weeks. The rest I have been filling in ever since. I hope this makes sense. Please review. Reviews make me very happy.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


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